*Ella*
Ryatt’s injured, but he doesn’t let it show while we walk into the city belonging to the Moonrise coven. Ravenna disappears before we approach the first buildings–little cottages and outbuildings coated in vines–and instead, we’re ushered into the city proper by other witches of varying ages.
I watch with narrowed eyes as an unfamiliar man lifts Hannah up and cradles her like an infant. He turns, being directed by three witches in black cloaks, and carries her into a tall building made of wood and stone, its windows lightly frosted and gleaming in the morning sunlight.
Then Granger is lifted to his feet and helped into the same building by Thorne, whose clothes are shredded and caked in blood. I hope it’s not his own.
Ryatt stands beside me in total, unnerving silence. Ahead of us, Amanda speaks in hushed tones to one of the witches, a pretty blonde woman with startling sharp gray eyes that leave Amanda’s face to gaze at me and then Ryatt.
Amanda turns from her and walks over to us. “We’ve been given rooms to stay in here.” She motions toward the building Hannah and Granger went into. “But that witch told me that you and Alpha Ryatt are to stay elsewhere.” She looks slightly nervous as she glances at Ryatt and quickly looks away.
I understand why. Ryatt looks absolutely menacing right now. Fresh blood from what looks like dozens of injuries to his chest, back, and arms have started to bleed through his shirt. His eyes are nearly black with rage. Rage for us, rage for his men, and rage against the witches who attacked us, even though they were supposed to be allies.
“Can you check on Hannah for me?” I ask Amanda, needing to get Ryatt alone again for a moment. “I’ll be back here soon, once we’re settled.” Wherever that will be. She nods, and I take Amanda’s hand and squeeze it. “Get some rest.”
Amanda exhales deeply, nodding again, and walks through the door, disappearing into the building.
I turn to Ryatt, but he’s staring at the pretty blonde witch, who is returning his gaze with a somewhat smug, if not outwardly seductive, smile. My chest goes tight as her eyes slowly take Ryatt in from head to toe, then back up again. She curtsies slowly, gracefully, and says, “My king. I’ll show you and your… Luna to your lodging.” Her eyes meet mine and darken before she turns around in a whirl of white-blonde hair and starts walking further down the street.
I look back at the building our friends have disappeared into before falling into step with Ryatt.
I open my mouth to speak, but Ryatt says, “Healers will see to Granger and Hannah. I’ll have answers about her condition shortly.”
“Thank you, Ryatt.”
He says nothing for several minutes. Buildings made of white stone line the street. We turn a corner and a large castle rises ahead of us, made of the same glimmering pale stone, its rooftops shimmering like gold in the sunlight. “It’s beautiful here,” I say to him. “Have you been here before?”
“My mother was born here,” he tells me, and it’s more information about him that I’ve gotten out of him yet. Shocked, I almost trip over my own feet.
The blonde turns off the main road and leads us down toward the lake where houses peek out from behind thickets of trees dusted with red and gold leaves. She stops in front of one house and motions to the door. “Everything has been set up in the way you like it, my king.”
“Thank you, Petra. Tell your mistress I need to speak with her immediately.”
The witch–Petra, apparently–bows her head and leaves.
“Do you know her?”
Ryatt opens the door to the house and steps inside. “I guess so.”
“You’re on a first name basis with her,” I press. I tell myself it’s not jealousy but a sharp curiosity about these people driving my words and feelings.
I step inside the house and the breath is stolen from my lungs. It’s beautiful. All pale wood and gold finishes. A fire burns bright in the living area. There’s a kitchen directly behind it and a staircase leading up to an upper level. “Your bedroom is upstairs,” Ryatt says with a slight groan as he steadies himself on the archway leading into the living room.
I run my tongue along my lower lip as I examine him, noticing how badly he’s been bleeding. “I didn’t realize you were so hurt.”
“Hitting me repeatedly with a stick didn’t help,” he growls, his skin paling as he straightens up. “Go rest.”
“Let me take care of those wounds.” I reach a hand toward him, but he moves back a step, his eyes burning into mine. “Ryatt–”
“Do not touch me, Ella.”
Something snaps in my chest at his tone. I stare at him, trying to understand. “You’re hurt, Ryatt!”
“Whatever this is,” he says, waving a hand between us. “It can’t continue.”
“I’m just–” I step toward him, clutching his bloody shirt.
He shoves me away, staggering backward.
“Ryatt!” My heart lurches as his eyes go dark, almost murderous. “What are you even talking about?”
“Do not start caring about me now, Ella. We can’t get close, do you understand?”
“Of course I don’t understand!” I shout! “You say this is just the mate bond, and so be it! I’m just trying to help you. You’re bleeding, Ryatt. I can help. I can dress those wounds before you meet with Ravenna. I’m sure there’s something around here–” My throat nearly closes around the words. Under his gaze, it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. I meet his gaze, fighting back tears. Tears I’ve refused to shed. Tears of hope, of longing, of that silly girlish dream that I’d find my mate one day and be in love like my parents or Isaac and Maddy.
Instead, I get a man who can't seem to make up his mind about whether he hates me or not.
Ryatt steps up to me and begins taking off his shirt, tearing the buttons free. They scatter across the room, pinging off the walls. Deep, angry claw marks run jagged across his bare chest and stomach. I suck in my breath as he closes the distance between us in a single step, tilting his head down to rasp in my ear with bitter cold hatred, “Your touch burns my skin worse than these wounds.”
“It’s not my fault we’re mates. It’s not my fault your father’s after me or that my family was in danger and I had to come here to protect them.”
He remains standing there, so close his breath grazes my cheek. He has me caged in against the wall.
I continue, “I was going to end it, you know. Before I summoned you to me, and tugged on our bond for the first time, I was going to get on a boat from Maatua and sail away, far away, until I reached the ends of the earth and dropped off into oblivion or got swallowed by the ocean.” My words are thick and almost as heavy as the ache in my chest as I struggle to continue, “I wanted it to end. All the nightmares, all the pain I’d caused my family. I came here because you were my last hope of just… living, Ryatt. I thought I was making the right choice.” I step out from underneath his arms and turn to the stairs. “I’m sorry I’ve inconvenience you so greatly.”
“Ella–”
I rush up the stairs, unsure of where I’m going or why, and close myself into the first room I can find. I turn the lock and sink to the floor, rubbing my fists against the tears threatening to roll over my lashes.
I want him. That’s the worst part about this. We’re mates, but this goes beyond that. Every touch, every kiss, has been more than I’d ever realized they could be. His scent has all of senses going haywire every time he’s near, and my body responds to him against my will.
But he hates me. I’m an inconvenience. I’ve put his men, his pack, in danger time and time again.
Below, I hear the front door slam shut hard enough to send a rattle through the entire house, and then everything is silent.
After a while, I rise to my feet and walk across the room. It’s a bedroom, with a large four-poster bed and soft satiny sheets. Clothing has been laid out–a dress of creamy silk and a matching robe–though I don’t know by who or when. I look around at the floral wallpaper and windows where the view of the lake is broken by towering trees.
Then I walk into the ensuite bathroom and almost fall to my knees.
A shower. An actual shower.
I immediately strip out of my clothes and jump in, ignoring the burn as the scalding hot water streams over my skin. I let the water pour over my head, washing dirt, ash, and blood from my hair. I scrub my skin with the sweetly scented soaps until it’s raw and burning. And then I cry. Stupid girl. Idiotic, useless witch. Foolish girl who thought she was saving her kingdom by sacrificing herself to this place.
Stupid girl who thought being with her mate meant being with someone who loved her for what she really is.
Ryatt is the only person who’s ever known my true nature, my true powers.
And he hates me as much as I believed everyone else would when they figured out who I am and what I could do.
I stay in the shower until the water runs cold. I dry off and dress then curl into a ball on the bed.
But even in my dreams I can’t escape him. I feel his hands on me, his touch warming my skin as he grips my thighs and spreads my legs.
How many times have I had this same dream without realizing it was him all this time? That it’s Ryatt looking down at me with so much love in his eyes as he rasps my name and enters me slowly, tenderly, worried he’s hurting me.
How many times have I dreamed he’d fallen asleep beside me with his arm around my waist, his body curled around mine while a crisp, clean mountain breeze drifts through our open windows with that mysterious city below?
I feel it now. His weight and warmth behind me. His scent, like the forest after a rainy night and the leathers he wears, blankets me and brings me instant comfort.
When I finally open my eyes, it’s completely dark, the moon high and full through the window overlooking the lake.
And as I roll over, I notice the other side of the bed is slightly warm to the touch, the sheets ruffled, like someone had been there only moments ago.
But then the door opens. Ryatt takes a single step inside, looking like he just woke up. “Your maid is awake and asking for you.”